It is an awkward beautiful feeling, the coarse of his palm against his, releasing all the words that put colour into his cheeks without holding back, freely, holding him in his arms without pretending, without excuses and lies, just because he wants to, just because he now can, in front of them, for him alone. No more hiding his feelings that are now sailing openly, no more secret glares, no more keeping it low, no more reading between lines and acts or intending to be all right when all he wanted was out of his reach, out of his dominance.

The long nights sighing his name like rain are over: he can sleep next to him, share the same dreams with their eyes closed and giggling filling the empty vortex of his heart where his name has always been embroidered, deep, a dark meaning into it – a meaning that was a secret only told to the sky, a pledge under the full moon about a furtive love that has grown so tall to reach the falling stars, a promise fulfilled with Jinwoo by his side, his smile concealed under his bones, his chuckles at his foolishness the balm to another long day of endless tiredness, all he has ever needed and thought unfit to get is granted to him, a wish upon a star come to life and that he holds dear, that contains all the meaning poured in all his songs because he has only sung about him, all his lyrics build for him to hear all the love kept and caged for him.

He has written his love on his sleeves, carrying it as the greatest secret of the word, store inside his chest, pressed with lyrics and melodies, with all the sense and emotions willing to escape, to run to him. He has coated all he has created with his feelings for Jinwoo, all his art, all his words, his breath, it is for him alone, has always been, since the beginning, since the first time he saw him and thought that he was an angel.

He is an angel indeed, still, after all the years and the moments and pressure and fails, the ups and downs and the changes between their relation, this has never changed, never will – Jinwoo is made of diamonds and always shines from every angle, in any shape, he is ethereal and graceful and kind-hearted and, for that, Minho is forever grateful, for living with such a graceful person, he will bow down to anyone he has to thank for that.

Minho has sung to him, about him, has written the meaning of his love into music and Jinwoo has listened to it, has, finally, understood, reciprocate. And now it is in the open field and he hasn’t been this joyous before, not with all his success – it can’t be compared with money and fame, it’s better than any glory or award, Jinwoo is the grandest prize, the most grandiose reward to his life. And Jinwoo’s emotions fit inside his chest pocket as if crafted for him to take, for Minho to keep and save. And it’s such a wonderful feeling just being by his side, with his eyes locked into each other, all the emotions transpiring with only a glance. Because there aren’t words to put these emotions into, it’s impossible to transcript, it’s beyond explanation – but can be clearly seen shining in their eyes.